Ellington Librarian Remembered Fondly

ELLINGTON — Coffee sputtered quietly in the corner and the plaid curtains fluttered gently in the wind as friends of Nellie McKnight shared stories about the longtime town librarian and historian.

McKnight, herself, would have appreciated the evening of oral history. It was full of letters, poems and storytelling, and held in the basement of the Ellington Congregational Church where she greeted parishioners every Sunday morning for years, before her death at 87 in 1981.

She would have turned 100 last July.

One by one, friends, relatives, neighbors and co-workers approached the church podiumlectern, many clutching faded letters and pictures, and shared memories of Nellie McKnight as storyteller, philosopher, librarian and poet.

There was Dorothy Cohen remembering McKnight's home- made jams and cookies, and her concerns about what would happen to the historical records she compiled, after she was gone.

Nephew L. James McKnight told about childhood nature walks and passed around a sugary orange candy made from one of his aunt's favorite recipes. And there was librarian Marge Dawson admitting that she still can only call her close friend ``Ms. McKnight.''

Others spoke warmly about McKnight's efforts to keep the public library, which she ran all by herself from 1929 until 1956, alive during the Great Depression years.

``Nellie had a special way of making a little go a long way,'' said Mary Bertelsen, who succeeded McKnight as library director when she retired in 1967. Knowing chuckles filled the room.

``On a limited budget, she provided a place for future generations to increase their knowledge and experience the pleasures that a public library is capable of providing,'' Bertelsen said.

When McKnight was surrounded by schoolchildren in the library, regaling them with stories, Bertelsen said, ``it was difficult to tell who was enjoying it more.''

Friends also read many of the poems that McKnight penned during the early 1900's about the delights of the seasons and the joys of winter and spring. One poem inspired by a Norman Rockwell painting evoked a letter from the painter himself.

``I feel you caught the meaning I intended and expressed it so well,'' Rockwell wrote.